Glass Starlight
by Ghost-Tongued
Summary: She couldn't believe she was in this dilemma: She was falling for a short-tempered, impatient, impossibly stubborn, and battle-hardened mechanical being and she fears it will only end in agonizing heartbreak. If only he would stop looking at her with that undefined softness that only made her treacherous heart swell with hope . . . Ironhide/Annabelle; Ratchet/OHF.


**Title: **Glass Starlight  
**Author: **Operation-Villainous  
**Character Pairings: **Ironhide/Annabelle; Ratchet/OHF  
**Genre: **Romance/Drama/Horror  
**Rating: **MA+  
**Warnings: **Sexual Content, Graphic Gore, Profanity

**Disclaimers: **I only own this story and my own characters; nothing Transformers.

**Recommendation(s):**  
_Page Width: _Keep story's width at "3/4"; adjustment settings are at the top-right corner of the site, where the different font styles and sizes are located. "3/4" is the original width that this story was written in.

_Light/Dark:_ This chapter is best read on the **dark**background setting because it deals with nighttime.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Life Update: Haven't written in years; fellow Transformer author is finally getting published with her own brilliant prose; dedicated to website building and politics; in love and engaged . . . and yet, here I am, attempting to (once again) write out the one story I felt the most proud over.

Forget what you remember if you've read this in its last two revisions. The first chapter is the same, but the rest are not. Have fun, enjoy, and leave constructive feedback if you get the chance or want.

* * *

**Chapter One: Touch Me**

There was so no sense in denying it.

No matter how wrong it was; how _forbidden_ it was . . . he couldn't deny it if he wanted to.

And he was going to burn in the Pit's inferno for it.

A soft, gentle moan drifted up to his ears and he slowly closed his eyes, reveling in the sweet sound. He tightened his strong arms around the soft, young body, pressing her naked back to his bare chest.

Another thing that was plaguing him was the discomfort he was starting to feel, being in his holomatter form. Had it been necessary, making the human portrayal of himself appear the way that it did? Old, scarred, inked, and gray-haired?

He repressed a weary sigh.

He had once told Will and Sarah that a holomatter wasn't like a hologram, where one could recreate a different image with each usage if they wanted . . . No; it took weeks and plenty of hard decision-making to finally piece together the perfect idea of oneself as a different species.

And also unlike a hologram, it sapped away so much of his physical energon and neuro-chemicals, just to activate the powerful generator _once_, to the point that he had no choice but to go into stasis for three days afterward

Attempting to do it twice was out of the question. So, once the holomatter form was pieced together . . . that was it. There was no going back; no making changes here and there; no starting over.

But of course, at the time when he was creating his holomatter form, he never once thought he'd be in his current situation . . . or expect to experience the pettiness of self-consciousness.

"'Hide . . ."

That soft, begging sigh from the Lennoxs' young daughter, as he firmly rolled her hardened nipples between his calloused fingers, made him want to pray to Primus and any human deity out there for the endurance to keep from showing her what he could _really _do. . .

"Mmm," he rumbled, bowing his head and burying his face against the slim column of her neck, inhaling her scent and taking a moment to cool his circuits.

It was a little after 9:00 P.M., and they were alone in the basement, sitting nude from the waist up on the bench in front of a worktable, Annabelle nestled comfortably between his hard thighs.

Even in his portrayal as a human, his heavy, muscled frame still overwhelmed her _much_ smaller, weaker form.

It'd be so easy, to break one of her fragile bones or blemish her soft, delicate skin with contusions . . . If he got too excited or upset with her - which, to say, was _a lot_ - he could very possibly hurt her without meaning to . . .

Dimly, he heard the revolver, that she had been polishing, clatter noisily to the floor, then she shifted slightly in his arms before he felt her slender fingers push through his short hair, while her other had slowly slid down one of his jean-clad thighs.

It had taken their first kiss to teach him that he had to keep his temper in check, especially if it risked their relationship's secrecy . . .

* * *

_"__**Move**__, Ironhide!"_

_He raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by the Lennoxs' girl's spitting hostility._

"No."

_He was standing in front of the door, blocking Annabelle's path to the outside world, where she would then go and see her "boyfriend"._

_While she visibly seethed there in the hall with him, he readily took in her attire: a black, hip-hugging mini-skirt; black, patented-leather, high-heeled boots with straps that lovingly embraced her slender calves; a purposely-tattered, black top, exposing one of her creamy-hued shoulders._

_Beautiful . . ._

_Only . . . it was all for an inexperienced, hormone-ridden __**boy**_**.**

_Suddenly, his young charge made an attempt to slip around him. _

_Almost on reflex rather than thought, he grabbed her upper arms tightly, effortlessly pulling her to halt, much to her obvious dismay and anger. _

_She snapped those emerald-green eyes up at him, their depths alive with indignant and incredulous emotion. _

_"I said __**no**__," he growled, hotly offended that she would blatantly ignore an issued order. _

_And yet . . . there was a part of him that was immensely pleased by it._

_He released one of her arms and started dragging her away from the door and towards the stairs that led to the second floor. _

_The best thing to do now was to just barricade her in her bedroom until Will and Sarah came home._

_Absently, he felt a little resistance when she started to dig her heels into the carpet. She tugged valiantly but in vain on her arm, trying to free herself from his iron-tight grip. No matter how much she fought, he would always win because he had the strength-to-restrain on his side of the battlefield._

_"Damnit, let me go, Ironhide! What is __**wrong**__ with you? You __**always**__ let me see David, even when you're supposed to be 'babysitting' me. What happened to you _'liking the silence and solitude when everyone is gone'_?" _

_Unfazed, he continued towards the stairs, calmly replying, "That's before I was informed about how you two were caught playing, as Will put it, 'tonsil hockey' with one another."_

_Actually, that was only part of the reason why he didn't want her anywhere near the boy. He'd seen many a time how he touched her; whispered in her ear; pressed his body close to hers. He'd also heard him practically pressuring her into having intercourse with him, asking her when they were "going to do it", where it would be done, and if she was on "birth control"._

_No; no one was going to so much as __**touch**__ her innocence, let alone take it - not if they were willing to pay for it with their __**life**__, and even then he would quite literally stomp on them before they ever got the chance._

_A hard jerk caused him to stop, and he turned to glare heatedly down at the young, blonde-haired spitfire._

_"__**So**__?" she spat, practically snarling as she glared back at him. "That was, like, last week and Dad already forgave me, saying I can do what I want so long as it doesn't involve sex!"_

_He silently snorted at that. If she was willing to disobey someone who stood taller than her house, weighed five tons, and enjoyed polishing his cannons sometimes more than interfacing . . . her deal with her own father left him little reassurance._

_And it was that thought alone, whether it was out of fear for her safety or the image of another male touching her intimately in any way, that ignited his temper into a raging inferno._

_"I don't care!" he snarled, then suddenly pushed her, none-too-gently, up against a wall, causing one of the hanging pictures to swing precariously. "You are not leaving to meet that insolent, frag-headed __**boy**__!"_

_For a moment, there was only silence, and for one horrible second, as he glared into her green, wide-eyed depths, he thought that he had hurt her . . ._

_When he attempted to apologize, she then astounded him by narrowing her eyes and jabbing his chest roughly with a finger, inquiring hotly, "Who the __**hell**__ do you think you are, telling me who I can and can't see, Ironhide? The __**only**__ ones who can tell me what to do are my __**parents**__ and you're neither one of them!"_

_Temper pricked again and more out of his carelessness with himself than her audacity, he grabbed her offending, fragile hand in a tight grip, his fuming voice bouncing off the walls as he glared down at her, "As long as I am your guardian, you will do as I say with __**absolute**__ cooperation!"_

_"That's the thing! You're __**not**__ my guardian!" she cried angrily, yanking at her captured hand. "You're my __**father's **__guardian!"_

_Fed up, he slammed his fist next to her head against the wall, his mind reeling with two conflicting feelings:_

_Anger and . . . arousal._

_He pressed his face close to hers, growling, "You are the offspring of my ward! _That **makes **me your guardian!"

_Suddenly, she put her hand on his chest and shoved hard at him before screaming, _"Why don't you just go shove your stupid cannons up your **ass** and just **stop **being jealous of **David**!"

_And like a devastating snap, his blackened temper seized control over him, his large hands lashing out and grabbing her arms roughly, and then . . ._

_. . . Then he was kissing her; hot and brutal._

_His mind buzzing, he hauled her roughly against his chest, his arms tightly caging her fragile body against his and dashing whatever hopes of escape she might have previously had._

_But by the Matrix, she was nothing but a bundle of shocks and surprises._

_Instead of fighting, she simply surrendered; kissing him back with such wild heat that he could have burned up right there. _

_She shoved her fingers through his hair, her nails digging into his scalp as he forced his tongue past her pretty little lips, forcing hers into dancing with his in a hot tango of twists and pushes._

_When he effortlessly lifted her, she immediately wrapped those long, long legs around his waist before he shoved her up against the wall again for leverage, his hands tightly grasping her exposed thighs as her skimpy skirt rode high._

_He tore his lips from the kiss and went for her slender neck, devouring the soft flesh in hot, biting kisses, groaning when she gasped his name . . ._

* * *

He was jerked out of the flashback when he heard Annabelle's cell phone sing "_Star-Spangled Banner_".

He slowly stopped caressing her body, his hands remaining possessively on her breasts, and stared curiously at the flashing, vibrating phone on the workbench in front of them.

Annabelle glanced up at him before reaching forward and grabbing the small, spazzing cellular device. He dropped his chin down on her bare shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against him comfortably.

"It's Ratchet," she murmured.

He saw the Caller ID flashing "MEDIC" up at them and felt a frown tug down his mouth. A sense of apprehension weighed heavily on his shoulders as he watched her flip open the phone with trembling fingers and press the "Speaker" button.

"Hello?" she tentatively answered.

There was a moment of harsh static. And then Ratchet's deep, sophisticated-sounding voice broke through, impatience and a hint of panic causing his tone to be higher than usual.

_"Annabelle! Where is Ironhide? I have been trying to contact him via communication link for the past ten minutes! Why is he not responding?"_

He snorted nonchalantly when she tossed him a dirty look. He looked back at her with an expression of indifference, as if to say _'What?'_

"He's . . . uh, here, don't worry," she finally replied, rolling her eyes at him and trying to push him away when he started brushing light, nibbling kisses down the column of her neck and along her soft shoulder. "Is . . . is everything all right, Ratchet?"

He paused again, hearing the medic's tight and strained tone when he spoke again.

_"Everything is all right, in a sense, but you and Ironhide need to get the hospital right away. Everyone is on their way there, including your parents, as we speak. I've Julianna with me. Annabelle, it's time!"_

And then the line clicked off, leaving them with a dial tone.

He looked down at Annabelle when she looked up at him, her green eyes as wide as his.

In a simultaneous movement, she jumped up just as he terminated his holomatter projection, the lifelike human portrayal of himself winking out of existence.

Outside, sitting in the driveway in the chilled night air, he groggily lifted out of stasis, taking control of his truck-mode once more. He turned his ignition without the aid of keys and his monstrous engine roared to life while he blared his horn, alerting Annabelle to hurry.


End file.
